


We are Near to Love

by Loz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pseudo-Exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1395547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loz/pseuds/Loz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They haven’t told anyone. It isn’t like it’s a heavily guarded secret. They haven’t done everything in their power to conceal the changes in their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are Near to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Tom Aspaul song ‘Indiana’ (which is also the Kylie Minogue song ‘Feels So Good’.)

They haven’t told anyone. It isn’t like it’s a heavily guarded secret. They haven’t done everything in their power to conceal the changes in their relationship. Scott thinks Isaac can tell, the way he looks at them, with an edge of jealousy that he doesn’t think is romantic or sexual, but is still ever-present. His mom probably knew straight away. As did the Sheriff. Allison. Lydia. Derek’s given him a suggestive eyebrow once or twice. So they haven’t made an announcement, but that’s mostly because it’s unnecessary. It still feels clandestine. Scott can’t really figure out why. He knows everyone knows, but since the words haven’t been said there’s plausible deniability. And he _likes_ that. It’s a whole thing he isn’t going to analyze. 

It’s just that when Stiles is pressing him up against his door and his mom’s in her room getting much needed rest after a 12 hour shift, and Scott has to swallow every groan and whimper, he’s so hard he’s straining against his zipper. And Stiles hasn’t even touched him there yet. He’s only placed his hands against Scott’s neck, his arm, his side. 

“How much do you want me?” Stiles asks, pretending to sound casual and commanding, but Scott can hear the genuine curiosity there. They’re still so new and sometimes he needs reassurances that Scott’s as on board as he is. He wouldn’t admit it, but Scott has been able to read Stiles’ indecisions, insecurities and infuriations for years.

“So much,” Scott murmurs in answer.

“Quantify it.” Stiles says these words like they’re hot and they shouldn’t be, but they are. 

“Nineteen.”

Stiles smiles against his jaw, tone going rich as he nudges Scott’s head up and presses a question against his neck. “What?”

Scott scrabbles up the door, trying to get his knees to work right. It’s no use, he’s boneless. “You heard me. I want you nineteen. That’s the quantity. You can decide if it’s ways, positions, days, decades.”

“I like the idea of decades. I’ll be completely metal by then. You’ll probably still have your wolfy youthful good looks,” Stiles says, pulling away and scanning Scott’s face, eyes crinkling at the corners, lower lip pulled down self-deprecatingly. 

He looks --- he looks _happy_ , which just makes Scott want him more. He can never get over how much they operate on a feedback loop; when Stiles is happy, he’s happy, when he’s happy Stiles is ecstatic.

“Less talking more sex… ing?” Scott suggests, arching his body up into Stiles’. 

“Okay, buddy, I get the picture. You only want me for my body.”

Scott would absolutely snark back at that if Stiles didn’t take that as his opportunity to drop to his knees and paw at his jeans. Stiles glints up at him, confident like he was faking earlier, lips pouting as he tugs at Scott’s zipper. Scott sucks his stomach in, undulates to help him, but Stiles doesn’t move to pull the denim off completely, just pulls it down the rise of Scott’s ass. He starts mouthing at Scott’s boxer-brief covered cock, humming as he drags his tongue over the material, getting it soaking wet. 

“Oh my God, Stiles, are you trying to kill me?” Scott whispers out, only just preventing himself from thumping his head against the door. 

Stiles is good at this, shameless with it. He knows exactly how to tease and prolong, seems to revel in getting Scott close and pulling back at the last second, eliciting a soft growl and pained breaths. Stiles’ mouth is warm through the stretch of the material, but not quite hot enough. Scott’s sensitive, but with cotton in the way he can’t feel the smoothness of Stiles’ lips. It’s a cruel way to be kind and Scott loves it. 

Stiles is anchoring his hips against the door, which is as well because Scott’s totally attempted to thrust into him on several occasions. He’s dragging one of his thumbs over Scott’s balls, increasing the pleasurable torture. Scott’s chest feels tight and his stomach feels loose and all he knows is that he could come like this, but he wants more. 

“Please, could you maybe stop being an asshole?” he huffs out, squirming under Stiles’ movements.

“Nope,” Stiles says, popping the ‘p’. 

He nuzzles against Scott’s cock from the base up and Scott’s so hard the tip of his cock is rubbing against his waistband, smearing precome. It’s only because his cock’s tilted far off to the right that the head isn’t free of its confines. It aches, a dull pulse that he simultaneously never wants to end and has to have finish right now. Stiles kisses just under the waistband, right where Scott feels hottest, lips pursing and releasing over and over again. Then he looks up at Scott through his eyelashes, gaze a mixture of mischievous and filled with lust.

“Not unless you tell me how this feels. And I don’t mean whispering, Scott, I mean full-voiced words.”

“I can’t,” Scott says back, hushed. “You really think my mom wants to hear us have sex?”

“She’s asleep.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Then listen-in to her breathing patterns as you’re telling me, just to be sure,” Stiles orders, like it’s easy. The sad fact is, it actually would be if Scott’s blood wasn’t rerouting everywhere except his brain. “How does it feel, Scott? I need to know.”

“It feels, uh, wet. And hot,” Scott starts, tentative and untested. 

He’s speaking as quietly as he can, but it sounds so loud in the quiet of the house. If he focuses, he can almost get to the point where all peripheral sound drowns him out, but he can’t focus. He winds his fingers through Stiles’ hair when Stiles edges down his waistband with his teeth. It should be ridiculous, but it’s the opposite. He doesn’t know how Stiles still looks and sounds collected, but he does, despite the pink flush in the hollows of his cheeks and throat. 

Stiles tongues around his slit and Scott half-crumples and gives a high-pitched whine at the same time. He sucks in a breath, two. Stiles has paused what he’s doing, is looking at him expectantly.

“It’s like you’re tugging on every single one of my nerve-endings,” he says, trying hard not to close his eyes, because he wants to see Stiles as he bends to take more of his cock in. It’s a beautiful sight, with dark mussed up hair and a new angle on beloved features. “Like you could pick me apart and rearrange me.”

Stiles begins to suck him and roll his balls between the fingers of his right hand at the same time. He’s stopped staring at Scott and now appears to be concentrating as hard as he can. Scott takes it as the slight reprieve it is and scrunches his eyes shut, leans deeper into the door. He remembers to listen into the sounds of the house and it’s silent except for their shared harsh breaths and the wet smack of Stiles’ mouth on his skin. 

“You feel so good around me,” Scott continues, unable to stop the flow of words now that he’s begun. “Fuck, I could spend forever like this if you wanted to. Not just this. Everything. All the time we spend together. I wanna bring you the happiness you bring me.”

His throat is starting to get scratchy and it makes his voice sound rough, but he doesn’t care, because Stiles has curled his hand around the part of his cock he can’t fit in his mouth and is jacking him slowly. 

“You know what I want, you know what I need and it’s too much, Stiles, it’s too perfect. I’m close, I’m so…”

Scott shudders and tries his best to hold back, to prolong this, but he can’t. He pushes on Stiles’ head softly, warning him, but Stiles either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, he keeps sucking him down even as Scott comes down his throat in long jets. 

Scott slumps down, jeans and pants still around his calves. His back makes a gigantic banging sound against the door as he does and he winces, but that’s about it. He’s too relaxed and content to care overly much. He gestures at Stiles to come close and Stiles crashes into him, tucking up tight to his side, half-sprawled over his leg.

“God you’re amazing for me,” Stiles says, stroking a hand over his jaw and pressing a kiss at the corner of his lips. “You said you wanted to bring me happiness and you do, you know. You make me the happiest. When I’m with you, I feel wild. And I mean that in every sense of the word, old-school slang and literal included.”

“You feel wild even when I haven’t made you come?” Scott asks, and yeah, he sounds _wrecked_.

“Oh, but you did,” Stiles says, humor-filled. He points at his crotch and there’s a wet patch spreading at the front of his cargo pants. “But I’ll probably be good to go in another nineteen.” 

Scott beams at Stiles, kisses him open-mouthed, tasting a hint of his own come. His heartbeat speeds up again, his chest gets tighter. He thinks about this, about them together and how it's almost everything he's ever wanted. Almost, because he wants the world to know. He's had a snatched-moment relationship before and while he's not going to lie, there's an inherent heat to it, there's also the sense that it's something to be ashamed of. He isn't even close to ashamed.

“We should tell everyone.”

“About my awesome refractory period? I’m not that much of an exhibitionist.”

“You know what I mean. About us. We don’t have to, like, give them all the details. But I want to announce to the world that I’m yours, you’re mine.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at him, thins out his lips. Scott thinks for a second that he’s going to hedge and ask to be given time to think about it, but then he says, “All right.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

They haven’t told anyone yet, but they will soon. It isn’t like it’s a heavily guarded secret, though that doesn’t stop it from being theirs. And while it will stop feeling illicit and clandestine the second the words are said, Scott’s okay with that. He doesn't want to deny them anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I firmly believe Melissa has noise-cancelling headphones on, because yes she knows, and no she doesn't want to hear it, regardless of how glad she is they finally got their act together. 
> 
>  
> 
> I am [lozenger8](http://lozenger8.tumblr.com) over on tumblr. Feel free to come say hi.


End file.
